WEIRD DREAM STORIES:
A Nocturnal Odyssey Inspired By Readers Of MB Weekly (Anonymously)
They say dreams are the mind’s way of clearing the clutter of the day. If that’s true, then our neighbors and readers have some very interesting junk lying around. From flying cars to dreaming robots, the dreams shared anonymously with us for this Bonus Issue show that the weirdest place in the world might just be your neighbor’s pillow. What follows are 12 dreams sent in by readers of MB Weekly – a true nocturnal odyssey in your own neighborhood. Prepare to wander through 12 wild and wonderfully weird dreamscapes that could only be dreamed up… right next door.
THAT TONIGHT SHOW
Last night, I found myself on the set of The Tonight Show, but the desk was melting like wax, and Johnny Carson was juggling three flaming rubber chickens. He leaned in and whispered, “The moon is watching.” The studio audience – hundreds of identical Mickey Mouses – erupted in laughter, their synchronized giggles forming an eerie, high-pitched chorus. Then, out of the blue, my ex-wife walked onstage in a wedding dress made entirely of live goldfish. “You forgot the groceries,” she hissed, her eyes replaced by tiny, spinning slot machines. I turned to Johnny for guidance, but he had transformed into a ventriloquist dummy, his wooden grin wide and unblinking. The walls collapsed, revealing an endless freeway looping into the sky. Mickey grabbed my hand. “It’s time,” he said. I woke up clutching a remote control I don’t own, the scent of popcorn thick in the air.
MR. WISKERS
One month ago, I awoke confused by a bizarre dream defying logic. Mr. Wiskers, my smugly indifferent tabby, had abandoned his usual disdain for human affection and – brace yourself – was passionately kissing my cleaning lady, Martha. But this was no ordinary kiss. No, it was cinematic: a slow-motion, gravity-defying smooch, with his little whiskers vibrating like tuning forks. Meanwhile, Martha – usually grounded in reality – was zooming through my house on a neon-pink motorized scooter, dodging floating furniture and speaking fluent French despite never leaving Bakersfield. She flung feather dusters like ninja stars each time she passed, giggling as chandeliers blinked like disco balls. Mr. Wiskers, now wearing a tiny tuxedo, leaped onto her shoulder and whispered stock market tips into her ear. Outside, the moon had turned into a giant, winking eyeball. And then, just as Martha proposed to my cat in song, I woke up. Scary!
LOVE & LENNON
My weirdest dream of all time was last month. I found myself in a dimly lit room, the scent of incense and revolution. John Lennon was there – alive, real, whispering words of peace as his fingers traced the edges of my reality. The walls hummed with invisible music, and the sheets tangled like vines in an uncharted jungle. Then – suddenly – my mother appeared. Not as she was, but as she had always been in the corners of my mind: a looming presence of judgment and familiarity. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?” she asked, her voice a mix of disapproval and cosmic bewilderment. John laughed, a deep, knowing chuckle. “Love is all you need,” he said, winking. The dream shattered like glass, leaving me awake, tangled in my sheets, completely confused. Some dreams, I suppose, are never meant to be understood.
THE FINAL TIME
Around Spring Break, I start having the same dream, even though I graduated from college decades ago. It’s finals time and I wake up knowing I have to take exams. I run out of the bedroom frantically. I stop. Wait, what class was I taking? I realize I haven’t been to classes all semester. English? Math? Psychology? Underwater basket weaving? What classes did I enroll in? I appear in a class with a Scantron and pencil. I start making out the word HELP. I turn it in and run out to my other class, but I don’t know where it is or what it is. I look for the admin office to see what other classes I am in when I wake up. I am sweating. Did I actually graduate? Did I ever finish taking exams? I have no desire ever to go back for any other degree.
ART PEOPLE
I am at an art gallery surrounded by people on screens watching us, the Art People. I am made of oil paint and others are made of charcoal or marker and other paint and drawing media. We are colorful and vibrant. The people on the screens point and discuss our motivations as we, the Art People, enjoy ourselves. We laugh and drink but we don’t care about the people on the screens on the wall. They are our abstract art. As we have fun, our colors cover the walls until we are free from the judgmental viewers. The party continues until we are drained of color, beautiful splotches of rainbow color on the floor.
ROBOT DREAMS
With all the talk about AI taking over I have a new dream. I am an engineer wondering what would happen if a robot could dream. An algorithm is created so that everything the robot has seen in a day is scrambled and randomly played for the robot while it is in Sleep Mode. When the robot is awakened, it is able to work the same for a few days, doing menial chores. Then, a few days later, the algorithm slips into the daily routine while the robot is not in Sleep Mode. The robot can no longer function as it can’t understand its surroundings anymore. It puts pants in the dishwasher and plants in the drawer. The world no longer fits. Not everything is meant to dream. I, as the engineer, sigh, wipe the robot’s memory clean, and watch as the chip holding the code melts and burns in the fireplace. The code rises as smoke and is written in the stars. Apocalyptic clouds form and the code rains down on the Earth. It’s too late to stop progress.
PLUTO & PIER
Running on water in dreams makes so much sense … when you are in a dream. If you run fast enough, of course you can step on the water and get your foot up before it sinks. So I think nothing is out of place as I am sailing along the Milky Way in my SmartCar. I am excited as I reach the farthest planet, Pluto (is it a planet anymore?). Space is eerily silent as I approach the planet only twice the size of my car. It just floats in space like a museum exhibit. I observe its gray craters as I make a u-turn and head back home. I pass the rings of a planet that looks like an eyeball the size of Jupiter. It blinks at me and I wave back. The millions of twinkling stars are bright. Then a gaping black hole appears and I am sucked into it, and end up flying over Manhattan Beach Blvd above the twinkling lights of the busy downtown streets heading toward the pier. It takes a moment or two sometimes to shake off the feeling of gliding through space.
DEATH & DREAMS
I read that if you die in your dream you die in real life. So when the meteors that destroyed the dinosaurs start raining down, I run with the dinosaurs but then watch as a burning meteor crushes me into the Earth … and I pop up somewhere else! Now I am on a mountain that starts shaking, and the ground opens and lava drowns me … and I pop up on the ocean on a sinking ship. Just like an Avatar in a video game. There is always an escape, even if you can’t figure out those escape rooms. Your mind somehow finds a way to save you. Of course, since it’s a dream, those solutions would not work in real life. You can’t just move the planet when a space dragon roars fire that would incinerate the Earth. Your Dream Avatar will find a way, so don’t worry. At least not in your dreams.
PUZZLE PEOPLE
I had this weird dream that I was on a date with this amazing person. Friendly, warm, funny and, of course, with an air of mystery. In my dream, this person was unformed, but puzzle pieces started collecting into a shape as we walked along the beach. We talked about our childhoods and family life, more pieces snapped into place. We talked about where we went to school, hobbies, even an embarrassing work experience. Piece by piece this person came to life. As we sat on the sand, the moonlight shining on the shapes of the pieces, I noticed that one piece never fit. There was a hole where the heart piece should have been. Distressed, I started searching for this piece while the puzzle person was oblivious and kept talking. My search took me to a boat, I traveled to island after island. I could not find this piece. When I returned, the puzzle person was now a flat puzzle on a table. That one piece still missing. I could see the picture, but I was still distressed by something more than it being incomplete. That feeling stayed with me for a while.
SKYDIVING RAINDROPS
I have this fun dream where I am a raindrop. It’s probably because I want to go skydiving. I am floating in a fluffy gray cloud with millions of other raindrops with just faces on them. We roll around laughing in this large fluffy cloud until we bump into another fluffy cloud. As the thunder rumbles we are shaken out of the cloud. Some are frightened, but others are super excited and laugh as we hurl toward the beautiful town below. We see the umbrellas and watch as some splatter beautifully and roll away in colorful streams. I smile as I see a person point in delight at all the raindrops. I splash elegantly into a pool of my fellow raindrops and stare at the fluffy cloud as more and more of my raindrop friends join me. I can’t wait to evaporate and come back as a raindrop again.
THE FILING ROOM
… so the receptionist shows me to my temporary desk across from a partially open door with a man yelling, “Where’s the Flubber file.” The desk looks like someone just stepped away, and there is a sweater on the back of the chair, like the full-time person is coming back. I look down and see a wrinkled piece of paper with names crossed off, with CLARB crossed off before FLUBBER. I am suddenly in the filing room and walking and walking until I am surrounded by thousands of cabinets before I am suddenly walking on sand listening to someone playing the harmonica in front of a fire under a clear night sky with bright stars. “Have a seat,” says the guy, who looks like an old time prospector. I sit on a log and he starts a tale about the lost Clarb file. He’s been looking for this elusive file for years. I say that was found and we were now looking for the next one on the list. The man stands and runs off screaming. …
MASKED MADNESS
A thousand clocks of all shapes and sizes cover the ocean as I stand on the shore under a night sky. A hollow-eyed moon hovers close enough to touch but somehow I know I shouldn’t reach for it and I have an urgent matter. I hear tick-tock tick-tock like faint cricket music. I take a step on a clock and stand there. Water starts to seep and the clock starts to submerge. I jump to another and when I wait too long, it too starts to submerge. The ticking gets louder. Each time I jump on another clock, it submerges faster. I run criss-cross as clocks start to disappear into the water. I get close to the shore but I am two floating digital clocks away. I see my reflection in the water, and I too am not recognizable in my mask. As I step on the last one, I sink into the water writhing until I am dancing at a masquerade party with a person wearing a hollow-eyed mask. The person puts a finger to the lips of the mask, but I don’t remember why I should be afraid. Even though I feel the desire to flee, I dance while trying to remember what I was urgently running from.
LASER BEAM BUNNIES
I got an Easter e-card with this one-blinking-eye bunny watching over a basket, then had a bizarre dream. I am on an island with a 100-foot bunny with one eye rotating like a lighthouse beacon, and it’s guarding a basket of large 6-foot colorful eggs. We approach, my crew dressed like actors in a technicolor musical, and we have to rescue the basket. We all run up and grab the basket, holding it or supporting it on our backs as we escape. The bunny comes to life and starts shooting red lasers from its eye. As the beam strikes each person, they go up in a beautiful confetti explosion. The night sky is filled with pastel fireworks. The basket topples and the eggs roll toward the sea past the Easter Island statues that moan at being awakened by the battle. The eggs start to crack open, green aliens pop out with ray guns, and start the march toward the bunny, firing green against the red laser beams. The bunny melts and we are all covered in gooey chocolate and rainbow confetti. Party time.
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1. ** The City of Manhattan Beach seeks a visionary Community Development Director! Lead five key divisions in this dynamic, beachside city with a $8.2M budget. Salary: $180K–$235K + excellent benefits. Apply by May 23, 2025. Learn more at www.peckhamandmckenney.com. —- Call Tara Schultz at (626) 644-1398
2. ** The newly reimagined Sea Sprite Hotel in Hermosa Beach is now the Sea Sprite Beach Club, complete with its first-ever eatery, Surfer Girl. The transformation, celebrated April 28 with a ribbon-cutting, honors its coastal legacy while adding fresh charm to the heart of Hermosa. —- Editor’s Note
3. ** Bob Holmes: Thank you for that nice piece in MB Weekly. It was so long ago, but I think it’s important for people to know that something like that war should never happen again. I just saw it on the evening news as well! 2/12th inf, 25th inf Div grunt oct67-Oct 68 —- Peter R.
4. ** Scott Wiener just bulldozed TWO committee chairs to ram SB 79 forward – a reckless bill that forces cities to approve tall apartments near transit with ZERO affordability, NO local voice, and NO environmental review. It’s a tone-deaf, one-size-fits-all mandate that threatens the character of every California community. —- Name Withheld by Request, Manhattan Beach
5. ** I agree with the No Name Commentary. —- David D.
6. ** Another tax hike is coming, folks – disguised as a “pass-through” for water costs. Manhattan Beach is sneaking in new rate hikes while discussing more studies and “financial plans.” Translation? Higher bills with no end in sight. Residents deserve transparency and relief – not more bureaucratic budget games. —- Andrew D.
7. ** America’s checkbook has been paying Michelle Obama 122k a month since 2009 23,424,000 she’s oppressed. —- Cynthia M.
8. ** Your Dive N Surf Russ Lesser interview was terrific. I’ve been a loyal customer of D&S for over ten years – consistently top-notch service, gear, and good vibes. Great store, great people, great history! Keep up the outstanding work. —- Toby A., Hermosa Beach
9. ** I agree with MB Weekly readers – David Slay is hands down the South Bay’s uber-chef! His culinary magic, elegant flair, and deep commitment to quality have made him a true gem in our dining scene. Slay’s restaurants elevate every meal into an unforgettable experience. —- S.B., Manhattan Beach
10. ** Great news for taxpayers! President Trump signed an executive order slashing federal funding for NPR and PBS. No more taxpayer dollars for biased, bloated media mouthpieces. It’s time for these elitist echo chambers to stand on their own two feet – or finally go silent. Long overdue! —- Dave L.
11. ** Rehabilitation centers are often a revolving door of chaos, suffering, and pain for the addict. But they’re making money at every stop… it was heartbreaking for me to see that. —- Abbey R.
12. ** Your Baby’s First Music Class Starts Here. Join Music Rhapsody – Babies Make Music and bond through lullabies, lap games, and joyful rhythms. Weekly take-home tips included. Safe & sanitized: Personal instrument kits are used. Kits sold separately ($59.13) —- Call 310-376-8646
13. ** WTF?! Walking past Uncle Bill’s, I spotted a full-blown cardboard box encampment taking up a metered spot at Lot 6 Civic Center! This is Manhattan Beach, not Skid Row. I called the police – this is unacceptable. Wake up, city leaders. —- Adele A., Manhattan Beach
14. ** Bravo, Redondo PD! But here’s the real rant: How the hell did we get to the point where smoke shops selling illegal THC and flavored tobacco are everywhere – and barely regulated? Parents, wake up. This isn’t about freedom – it’s about your kids being targeted and your community being quietly poisoned. —- Heather R., Redondo Beach
15. ** Congratulations to the U.S. public education system – you’ve produced a nation where 48 million adults read at or below a third-grade level. That’s not just a statistic; it’s a national disgrace. Decades of bloated budgets and broken promises, and this is the literacy legacy we’re left with? —- Arthur L., Hermosa Beach
16. ** Let’s be honest! California’s homeless crisis hasn’t been solved because too many nonprofits, consultants, and bureaucrats are cashing in. Billions spent – yet tents keep multiplying. It’s not compassion; it’s corruption wearing a smiley face. Until we follow the money, nothing changes. Homelessness is now a business – and business is booming. —- Paul D.
17. ** MB Weekly readers sure as hell got it right voting Chef Slay as Manhattan Beach’s most popular chef. The guy runs the hardest-working restaurant team I’ve ever seen. I love his Steak & Fish spot – flawless food, great vibe, and pure passion in every bite. —- Chuck L., Hermosa Beach
18. ** In one of nutrition science’s dirtiest cover-ups, Harvard scientists took sugar industry cash to lie. In 1967, they buried sugar’s link to heart disease and scapegoated fat – without disclosing the payoff. Bought science – rigged results. Public health be damned. —- Dr. Max L.
19. ** A hypothetical debate took over the internet last week: Who would win in a battle between 100 men and one gorilla? —- Glenn S.
20. ** WTF? Sweetgreen – $16 for a bowl of lettuce and three chickpeas?! Are you out of your f–king mind? For that price, I want a personal chef and a shoulder massage. No wonder America’s losing its grip – gourmet rabbit food is now a luxury item. This isn’t wellness; it’s wallet warfare. —- Dwayne D.
21. ** Memo to the Metlox escalator boss: YOU’RE FIRED! Your useless escalators are broken more often than they work. What kind of clown show are you running? It’s 2025 – how hard is it to keep stairs that move… moving? Fix it or step aside. This is embarrassing. —- Shiela K., Manhattan Beach
22. ** Had a great time volunteering today at Our Big Kitchen L.A. in Pico-Robertson – 2 hours of meal prep and packaging 300 meals for those in need – amazing energy, purpose, and impact. I highly recommend getting involved! Learn more or sign up to help at: https://www.obkla.org —- Mark M.
23. ** That harmless-looking lunch receipt? It could be poisoning you. In just 10 seconds, Bisphenol S (BPS) – a toxic, hormone-wrecking chemical – absorbs right through your skin. Your receipts are soaked in danger. —- Max L.
24. ** Feeling overwhelmed by bad news? Check out Reasons To Be Cheerful, a site founded by David Byrne that shares inspiring, solutions-based stories from around the world – especially around climate and innovation. It’s a refreshing weekly newsletter worth subscribing to. A dose of optimism you didn’t know you needed. https://reasonstobecheerful.world/ —- Eric D., Hermosa Beach
25. ** URGENT: Volunteers needed for AP Exam check-in at Mira Costa! Help ensure smooth, on-time starts for these critical tests. Shifts at 7:15AM & 12PM. Sign up now to support our students during this important time. Thank you! Questions? Contact David Haluska.
26. ** A friend said, “It’s so gloomy today.” I replied, “Yes, but look how beautiful the flowers are.” He smiled, “You’re bright and sunshiny today.” I said, “Someone has to be!” Folks – don’t add to the gloom. Be the ray of sunshine that lifts the day! It matters more than you know. —- Katie C., El Segund
27. ** Can someone explain why our extremely well-paid Manhattan Beach Police only work three days a week? Last I checked, criminals don’t clock out early. With public safety on the line, shouldn’t we expect full-time effort for full-time pay? —- E.W., Manhattan Beach
28. **Looking for the best deal in town? Plate Pass is the most affordable way to enjoy delicious meals at Urban Plates in Manhattan Beach: great taste and unbeatable value. Sign up today and start saving every time you dine. Learn more at www.UrbanPlates.com
29. ** Heartbroken over the young life lost last night in Manhattan Beach. No words can make sense of it. Holding the family close in my thoughts – wishing them strength, peace, and all the love the world can offer In this unimaginable moment. We mourn together. We remember. We care. —- Kirby N.
30. ** Whoever planted hidden cameras in the bathrooms of a children’s dance studio is a vile predator and must be caught and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. This is beyond sick. Parents, stay alert. If you know anything, call Hermosa Beach Police at 310-318-0360. —- Grace O., Hermosa Beach
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